


Memory Lane

by ValentinesValentine (UnfinishedProject)



Series: Fallout February (Reddit Daily Prompts) [21]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Childhood Memories, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22833196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/ValentinesValentine
Summary: February 21. Chronicles: Whether they're tales told by an elder, or something your character writes at home, we all have some wisdom to share from our own experiences. Show us how one of your characters emparts their own story.
Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Fallout February (Reddit Daily Prompts) [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621144
Kudos: 13





	Memory Lane

They've been on their way to Jamaica Plain when a pack of ferals forced them into hiding between the ruined buildings. She glanced around the upper level where they retreated to; it once had to be a family home — she wondered what became of the owners. She might even knew them — while she wasn't sure which street they were on, this was the same neighborhood she grew up in. The room they were in was probably the daughter's — the peach pink wallpaper still visible somewhere on the cracked walls and what furniture was stuck under the debris just reinforced her assumptions. 

"Hey, sunshine. Ain't this your name?" Hancock poked at a ruined book with his boots between two glances outside as she waited for the Rad-Away to work its magic — the stim already closed the deep gash on her arm but she was still nauseous from the radiation she soaked up within bare seconds. It could've been, there were at least three Noras she remembered from her childhood; and she's never told Hancock her maiden name. 

With careful moves she leant down but he was quicker to snatch up the burnt journal from the ground. She didn't like the smile that curled his lips — that usually meant his amusement came at someone else's cost. She leant back on the ruined bed; there wasn't much to do for now. He watched as Hancock flipped through the pages, looking for pages that were still legible after the two hundred odd years since its owner last used it. 

"Dreams and goals of Nora Summers, age 8." She jumped up, crossing the room with haste — as much the crumbled pieces of wood and what else let her. Hancock's black eyes flicked to her and his smile widened into an smirk with understanding; he won't ever let her live this one down. She tried to snatch it from his hands but it was a pitiful attempt; he was taller than her just enough to keep it out of her reach. Resigned to her fate, she slid down against the wall — she was certain a reading would follow. 

"Marry Charlie Lee." Charlie was her first crush, a year her senior and one of the coolest boys in school. It seemed like life had a twisted sense of humor for throwing Hancock in her way now — like she could exclusively be smitten with people who shared names with revolutionaries. Well, obviously that point will forever be unfulfilled but she didn't have much reason to complain — Hancock was plenty perfect as a lover. 

"Win at the Massachusetts Ballet Competition. That explains a few things." She shook her head with a smile when Hancock sent her a wink — he was firsthand witness to the creative uses of her agility. But, in reality, she stopped ballet when she started high school — the debate club and various volunteer work took up her time and the pinks and frills lost their charm as she grew. She didn't win either, finished somewhere in the first thirty or something — and then her parents took her to the Commons and bought her a three-scoop ice cream. 

"Have Granny bake her pie for my birthday." She recalled that _next Thursday_ was written there in parenthesis, with four or five exclamations marks. She passed away before Shaun was born but she left that pie's recipe to her — it was supposed to be a tradition they'd continue as family. But the war ruined everything — her life, her dreams and even her family home. She tried not to think about what happened to the rest of her family — but her nostalgia mixed with sorrow the lower Hancock went on her list. 

"Have a dog. Better late then never." He probably meant Dogmeat but she had dogs before; the last one with Nate and Shaun — he was very fond of the baby, too. Apollo would sit hours by the crib, softly barking or growling back to Shaun's baby sounds — like they could understand each other. Dogmeat helped her through a lot even if he wasn't the same dog — she could snuggle up to him and cry into his fur when it became too much. She still snuggled up to him when Hancock was busy with mayoral duties. 

"Become a lawyer like Dad." She knew that it would be hard, she's seen her father stay up late into the night when working on some cases to find the best outcome for his clients. He's probably the smartest person she knew well into her twenties, too — someone she could look up to and be proud to call her dad. He was there for her during college, helping her prepare for exams and finding her an internship — and he never once made her feel stupid or not good enough. It was one of her happiest days when she finally got her doctorate. "Anything that came true?" 

"The last two. I think my eight year old self would be proud of me." She wouldn't say her dreams were too big or impossible to achieve; but it took a lot of dedication to get here — that and two hundred years of sleep. She leant into Hancock's side who came to sit beside her, resting her head against his shoulder. It wasn't the life she envisioned and he wasn't the man she wanted to marry — but she couldn't be happier with Hancock on her side.


End file.
